


Memories Dripping Red

by bookworm213



Series: Blood on Our Lips like a Crimson Shrine [2]
Category: Black Widow (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: 1950s, Ballet, Basically they get a happy ending from the last story but still have to deal with some shit, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, Bucky loves Nat, F/M, Nat loves Bucky, Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson Friendship, Sex, Vampire AU, Vampires, don't worry tho I won't pull any fake-out-death shit like I did last time lol, haven't decided that yet, is Sam a vampire?, possible time jumps from the 1950s, well we'll just have to read and find out won't we??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2020-09-18 19:34:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20318359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookworm213/pseuds/bookworm213
Summary: Vampires Bucky and Natasha have been living in New York for the last few years. Bucky is getting used to his new life, and Natasha feels loved and happy for the first time in nearly 100 years. Bucky will do anything to protect that. But for both of them, relics from the past have a way of finding them again, and with both old and new figures coming out of the woodwork, they both have to decide if they can trust anyone except each other.





	1. 1950

**Author's Note:**

> HEY GUYS! So y'know how I said I was gonna take a hiatus from this, weeelll the response to my first fic was so amazing that I just had to keep writing!!! So by my assumptions, Nat and Bucky reached New York in 1945 after the war ended, so when this story picks up they've been living there for about five years. It's not a super long jump for vampire au standards, but I think I wanna include some more time jumps in future chapters, as you can see I'm kinda making this up as I go along lol!
> 
> I love and cherish everyone who read my last fic, and I hope that you guys enjoy this one just as much!! As always, kudos and comments are ALWAYS welcome!!
> 
> Also btw, since ao3 won the Hugo award, does that technically mean that I can put "Hugo Award Winner" on my resume???

1950

The daylight had faded, and the first silvery slivers of moonlight were beginning to peek through the curtains and stretch across the bedroom in the lavish Manhattan apartment. It barely touched the edge of the bed, but it was enough to make one of the two figures that lay tangled in the sheets stir. The figure sat up in bed, stretching his one pale arm into the air as he shook himself awake. He let out a sleepy yawn, and this time the moonlight caught the glint of the sharp fangs that protruded from his mouth. 

Bucky blinked as he scanned the bedroom, his eyes cutting perfectly through the darkness the shrouded their apartment. Their home for the last five years was large and spacious, but rather bare of furniture or the normal creature-comforts that one would expect in the home of a wealthy couple. The kitchen, while large and equipped with the latest appliances, had barely been touched, and had gathered a quite spectacular amount of dust. In the main living room, there was nothing but a simple couch facing an admittedly state of the art black and white television set. It had also been there when they’d moved in, and Bucky hadn’t exactly complained about it.

Bucky looked beside him on the bed as the second figure stirred. Natasha was still fast asleep, her red hair splayed out over the pillow and a soft snore coming from her parted lips. Bucky smiled as he looked down at her. Natasha was the one who had found him bleeding out on a snowbank in the Italian alps. She was the one who had turned him into a Vampire (although he’d learned quickly that she didn’t like the name). At first, he’s been horrified and angry at what he’d become. But Natasha had been patient, had taught him how to live like this, and before he could even understand it, she had become the most important thing in the world to him. He loved her more than he’d ever thought he could love someone. How could he regret become this, if it had lead him to her?

That didn’t mean it was easy though. Hunting and feeding had become more and more bearable over the years, although they could never escape the amount of life they took to keep the hunger at bay. The guilt would always be there, no matter how much they tried to find bad people to feed on, or people who wouldn’t be missed. Natasha had borne the burden much longer than him, and tried to comfort Bucky as best she could, although Bucky knew it would never truly go away.

Speaking of. His stomach growled uncomfortably, making him wince. It had been about two days since him and Natasha had last fed, and once again his appetite was beginning to grow loud and demanding. They’d have to go out again tonight for sure.

But for now, Bucky couldn’t find the will to leave the bed. Instead, he he lay back down, facing Natasha, watching her as she slept. After a few minutes, he leaned over and placed a kiss on her shoulder. She shifted, but didn’t wake. Raising and eyebrow, he leaned in for another kiss. This time, he placed his mouth on her shoulder, planting firm, hungry kisses along her shoulder blade before moving to the back of her neck. His arm wrapped around her waist. He felt Natasha move against his body, stirring at his touch. He continued his attentions to her throat, kissing until he heard a husky, sleepy voice. 

“Damn you, James. Can you not let me wake up on my own?” 

The annoyance in her tone was only for show, and Bucky laughed softly. “Good evening to you too.”

Natasha turned on her back to face him, smoothing back the hair that gotten tangled over her face. Her ruby lips were turned up into a smile, her white teeth and fangs visible. Bucky leaned down and covered her lips with his own. Natasha moaned, low and deep as she leaned into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck and her fingernails digging into the muscles of his back. All too soon, she pulled away, looking up and Bucky with a blinding, blissful smile. The cold cavern where Bucky’s heart was fluttered as if it was still beating.

“Good evening, James.”

——————————————————————————————————————————

An hour later, Bucky was standing in front of the large mirror in their bedroom. He could hear Natasha in the bathroom, no doubt getting ready for the evening. 

His appearance had changed since he’d been turned. His features were still the same, but his skin was deathly pale, almost white. His cheeks looked hollower, and the veins on his arm stood out purplish-blue against the white. The only thing that showed true color on his face were his red lips, and the eyes that shone icy blue. And then there were his fangs, sharp and hungry, always waiting to be unsheathed behind his lips. His appearance didn’t disturb him as much as it used to. He spent more time than he’d like to admit memorizing the changes that had befallen him.

His stomach gave another insistent pang, breaking his concentration. Natasha would be ready soon, and then they would go out to hunt. He was already dressed in a well-tailored suit, in a dark navy that brought out his eyes. The lack of a left-arm added to the overall look: women were always fawning over the handsome war-veteran who’d given his arm for the cause. Him and Natasha would go to one of the more popular bars in Manhattan, they would each find a young man or woman to charm into coming with them to a quiet location, and then they would feed and dispose of the bodies discreetly. 

Bucky turned away from the mirror and walked to the window to peer out, resisting the urge to pace back-and-forth across the bedroom. The hunger made him restless, agitated. A cool fall breeze blew through the open window, and even from high up he could smell the sweet scent of blood from the people down below, and hear the laughter as people headed to where they were spending their Saturday night. The war had been over for years, and there was a constant charge of prosperity and good times across the city. You could practically taste it in the air.

“James?” Bucky turned around to find Natasha had emerged from the bathroom. His mouth fell open a bit as he took her in. Tonight, she had dressed in a short, short-sleeved dress with a full, billowing skirt. A rather simple outfit, but tonight she had adorned it by wearing a black cap on her head with a netted veil that came down over the upper half of her face, obscuring her eyes but making her lips stand out redder than ever. Natasha had found that she liked creating characters and personas to go with her outfits. Tonight, she was the still-grieving widow, finally going out for a bit of fun after her husband’s untimely death. Bucky suspected that the habit stemmed from her time in the Bolshoi when she was human. Now that they were together, she was permitting herself to enjoy things again. To emerge out of the fog of isolation that she had been in for so long.

She smiled at him. “Are you ready?”

Bucky walked over and took her hand, leaning in to give her lips a soft peck. He pulled away and gave her a lopsided grin. “Lets eat.”

——————————————————————————————————————————

The fall wind swirled around them as they stepped out into the brightly lit streets of Manhattan. The sounds of people laughing and chatting filled the air as the two of them weaved through the crowds, arm-in-arm. The bars and clubs were packed, and the sounds of music and laughter were spilling out into the street. The rich smell of fresh blood was everywhere, crisp, delicious, and nearly overwhelming as they strolled. Bucky tried to push down the hunger as best he could though. Provided they could wait to feed, he and Natasha liked to enjoy the music for awhile in whatever club they found themselves in. Sometimes they would even dance. That had been difficult as first, the dancing. Natasha was reluctant at first, as the last time she’d danced was before she was turned, at the ballet. She hadn’t danced in nearly a hundred years. But Bucky had grabbed her one night in their apartment and put a record on, leading her through a waltz as the music played. By the time the song was done, Natasha was smiling, tears in her eyes as she finally allowed herself to move with the dancer’s grace she hadn’t felt in decades.

“Where tonight, Milli Moi?” Natasha whispered in his ear. Bucky thought for a moment. Usually they went to one of the more popular bars in Manhattan, but as he stared out into the street, he wanted a change.

“Brooklyn,” he finally said. Natasha looked at him, briefly raising an eyebrow, but she didn’t protest. They hadn’t been to Brooklyn properly since they had first arrived in the city. He had taken her into the the streets where he and Steve grew up, intending to show her the place where he’d spent his childhood. But the pain had overwhelmed him as soon as they got within sight of his home, the home where he knew his mother and sisters still lived. The thought of being there without Steve, not being able to tell his family that he was alive, it was too much. Natasha had taken him back and comforted him, and he hadn’t have the nerve to try and go back since.

But now . . . something was pulling him across the city. With their speed, it didn’t take them long to reach Brooklyn. Like Manhattan, the streets were crowded with people enjoying the crisp air, laughing and sharing cigarettes. Natasha looked around, and pulled Bucky towards a club with the sound of jazz music emanating from it. The inside was crowded and hazy as people smoked, drank, and cheered as the band played.

As soon as Natasha stepped in, men’s eyes turned to look at her. They watched her as she strode into the club and took a seat at the bar, her red mouth curving into a smile. The stares they gave her didn’t bother Bucky, not anymore. He knew well enough that any man who thought his luck had outdone itself would end up dead before the night ended. 

Bucky followed her, but at a discreet distance. Now the hunt had begun, when they would split off and each find someone to feed from. They were both too hungry to enjoy the music first. The gnawing in his stomach was making it harder to think. If he didn’t feed soon, he’d start to lose his self-control. 

He let Natasha drift out of his sight as he scanned the crowded room. He had been a vampire long enough that he could discern the different smells of people’s blood, and find one that smelled more appetizing than the others. For a moment, the smells of all the people in the room blurred together. He could smell the alcohol that made the blood run hotter, the cigarette smoke that turned the lungs black, and hear the rapid beating of the crowd’s hearts. Finally, he narrowed in on a scent that smelled particularly good, making his mouth water and his fangs extend.

He saw her from across the bar, her back turned to him. A young woman in a pretty blue dress that came just below the knees. Her hair was long and dark, pulled into a clumsy ponytail. She was laughing and snatching a cigarette out of the hands of one of the men she was with, who all had beers in hand and were talking loudly, clearly trying to flirt with her. 

Bucky’s stomach growled impatiently as he started to approach her, keeping his mouth shut tightly so no one would see his fangs. It was just a matter of getting her away from those men, but that would be fairly easy. Then he could talk to her and take her somewhere they wouldn’t be noticed . . .

The scent of her blood got stronger as he came up behind her. It smelled so good, it made the ache in his stomach nearly agonizing. But then the girl turned her head to the side slightly, giving Bucky just a glimpse of her facial profile.

It was enough.

He felt like the floor was crumbling beneath his feet as his mouth dropped open in horror. Without thinking, he turned and ran, desperate for her not to see him. He pushed past the crowd as he made for the door, not even paying attention to the shouts as glasses shattered and men were thrown aside like toys. He burst through the doors and out onto the street, gasping for air. His whole body was shaking. The hunger still burned in his stomach, but now instead of wanting to satisfy it, he could only feel disgust and horror as he leaned against the brick wall of the building and retched.

He actually wanted to . . . he almost killed . . .

“James!?”

Bucky felt two hands brace him against the wall as he stared into Natasha’s angelic face as she crouched over him, which bore a look of confusion and concern. He noticed her mouth was stained with blood. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Her hands came up to cup his face, but he barely felt it.

The shock at what he had almost done paralyzed him. He could barely open his mouth to let out one choked, strangled word.

“Becca.”


	2. A Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm back!!! I'm so sorry for the late (and probably kinda crappy) chapter. I've been super busy with my new job, and also things have been kinda rough for me mentally these last few months, so I haven't had the time/energy to write. But I'm really happy I got this done in time for Halloween (btw it's been like two years since I started First Blood and I can't believe it lol) and I hope u guys enjoy it. I'll try to update as frequently as I can, unfortunately work's gonna be pretty busy until January at the earliest, so please bear with me!

“You need to eat.”

That was about the third time Natasha had told him that. She was pacing the room of the apartment, still in her evening clothes, her white face creased with worry. Bucky barely heard her. He had managed to stumble back to their home, but once he got through the doorway he had collapsed on the sofa, still shaking with the horror of what he had almost done. He couldn’t get the image of his sister’s face out of his mind. God, she had been barely into her teens when Bucky had been shipped out to war, nearly a decade ago now. Now she had to be eighteen at least, a young woman, and he’d almost . . . 

He’d almost eaten his own sister.

Another wave of nausea turned his stomach and he leaned over the arm of the sofa and started dry-heaving. He felt Natasha rush to his side and put her hands on his shoulders to steady him. The dry-heaving passed after a few moments, an he slumped back onto the couch, exhausted.

“James . . .” Natasha’s voice was soft, uncertain. 

“My sister,” Bucky managed to say. “She was . . . she is, my sister and I could’ve . . . I wanted to . . . “

“You didn’t know it was her.” Natasha cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her.

“She smelled good,” Bucky gritted out through clenched teeth. “Jesus, she smelled better than anyone else in that place, and all I wanted to do was-“

“Stop this.” Natasha’s voice was firm, her steely blue eyes fixed on his. “You didn’t know. You were doing only what you needed to do. And you didn’t kill her, so stop torturing yourself James. I won’t allow it.”

It went on like this for awhile. Natasha covered him with a blanket, and Bucky managed to drift off into a fitful sleep just as the first rays of the sun were beginning to peek through the windows. His dreams were full of Becca’s face, a happy, grinning little girl who was always running after him when they were kids. And blood. Rivers and rivers of blood.

When he woke with a gasp, it was night again. His fangs had extended and pierced his bottom lip. Two black streams of blood ran down his chin. He still hadn’t fed, and the hunger clawed at his stomach to the point of nausea as he sat up with a groan. The apartment was dark, and there was no sign of Natasha. At least until the door flew open and the body was dropped at his feet.

The man was unconscious, dressed in dark clothes. Bucky could make out the hilt of a knife partly sticking out of a pocket just below his hip. Clearly a mugger of some sort. Natasha stood over him, hand on her hips and her mouth pressed into a thin line. 

“Eat.”  
Bucky didn’t protest, as the hunger had banished all thought from his mind. He knelt down beside the man, groaning in pleasure as his fangs pierced the skin of the throat and the warm, thick blood coated his tongue. He drank until the man ran dry and the aching pangs had faded. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he stood up and embraced Natasha, pressing a kiss onto the side of her neck.

“Thank you,” he whispered against it, feeling his body melt against hers. Feeding had returned his strength, although his mind still raged with turbulent emotions.

Natasha didn’t need to say anything, she merely smiled and grasped his hand, squeezing it tight.

“I’ll always be here for you, lobov moya. Don’t forget that.”

——————————————————————————————————————————

He had told himself that he wouldn’t go back. That he would stick to Manhattan, avoid Brooklyn all together. It was for the best, he told himself. He couldn’t risk bringing old pain back from the past.

And yet something pulled him back tonight, back to where he had grown up. He was standing on the old street where he had lived as a kid, a cluster of run-down, ramshackle apartment buildings that frankly should have been torn down years ago.

Natasha wasn’t with him. He had told her he was going out for some air, to clear his head. She had agreed, knowing that had still been struggling with what had happened for the last few days. He hated the fact that he had lied to her, but he couldn’t stay away. He had to see the girl again, to confirm whether it really was Becca that night in the bar. Part of him was hoping, desperately hoping, that it wasn’t her, that he had been mistaken that night. 

He was in front of his childhood home, a red-brick building with peeling paint on the stairs. Seeing it, his heart tightened in his chest to the point where his breathing came in rapid, short spurts. He stayed a safe distance away, hiding himself in the shadows of an alley. He chided himself for thinking that he would see Becca this way. For all he knew, his family didn’t live here anymore, they moved across the city or back to his Ma’s childhood home in Indiana. Once they would have gotten news of his death, they wouldn’t have had much of a reason to stay. A lump swelled in Bucky’s throat at the thought.

The sound of the door to the building slamming open startled him from his thoughts. What he saw nearly made him stop breathing.

It was definitely Becca, definitely the girl he’d seen at the bar the other night. Her features were unmistakable: she had dark hair like Bucky’s and strong, angular features like their mother. She was wearing a short green dress, and bright red lipstick. She sat down on the steps and lit a cigarette, letting the smoke drift towards the sky as she looked benignly around her.

He felt a familiar wave of sickness wash over him now that he knew if was really her, but some other part of him was thrilled: this was his sister, the little girl he’d taken care of all his life, who he’d never thought he’d seen again. Bucky ducked further into the alley, further concealing his presence. He gritted his teeth: he could smell her blood from across the street. He had fed earlier in the night, a precaution in case he did come across Becca, but the smell and the thick, pulsing race of her heartbeat still made his stomach clench uncomfortably. 

Becca continued to sit on the steps, taking deep inhales from her cigarette, until a man made his way down the street towards her. He smelled of cheap alcohol and sweat. He looked a few years older than her, but Becca smiled when she saw him. She stood up and made her way towards him. Bucky watched as Becca and the man embraced, and he barely blinked before they were kissing passionately out on the open, deserted sidewalk. 

Bucky turned on his heel and fled with inhuman speed down the alley.


	3. The Mysterious Woman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I am SO SO SO sorry it has taken me so long to update!!! Things with my new job have gotten super busy, and thus I haven't had the time nor energy to write much. :( Things are quieting down now though, so hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently now. In the meantime, enjoy the new chapter!!

Natasha was worried.

It had been nearly two weeks since the incident at the bar, and James was still restless, shaken. He wouldn’t talk about what happened, no matter how much she tried to coax him. He slept fitfully, and one day she woke to him having a screaming nightmare, sitting straight up in bed, chest heaving and terrified. 

Natasha never had family. Her parents had died more than a century ago, and she was immediately sent to the orphanage, and then to the Bolshoi. Yelena had been the only person she was truly close to, and even then their relationship was marred by rivalry and betrayal. The man who had claimed to be her only family, her creator (she refused to say his name), she had only felt burning hatred for, and he had died a gruesome and well-deserved death by her own hand. Family had been a foreign concept to her until she met James. Then, she realized what it was really like to be close to someone, to love someone.

It made her chest ache to think of James’s family, his own sister, living in this very city, presuming he had been killed on that train in Italy. Her not knowing that her brother was still here. But then again, if they revealed themselves to her, if she saw what her brother had become . . . what would she do?

Natasha had long forgotten the shame of her existence, the killing out of necessity. But it was clear that James hadn’t yet. Not completely. 

In the early hours of the evening, just after the sun had set, she slowly crept out of bed while James still slept. She combed her hair and put on a simple green silk dress. She kissed James lightly on the forehead before quietly leaving the apartment and heading out into the brisk night air. 

She walked down side streets and alleys, having no desire to confront the still-large crowds in the main streets. Other than the occasional homeless person and the rats, she was very much alone. The night was clear, and the moonlight illuminated the darkness of the streets until Natasha found her way to her destination. 

It was the same bar she and James had visited those fateful two weeks ago. People stood out front, laughing and smoking cigarettes. One of them was a girl with dark hair and blue eyes. Becca.

Natasha sucked in a breath as she took in how much she looked like James. Yes, she had those same features, those same eyes. Becca was leaning against the wall of the building, smoking a cigarette. She seemed to be waiting for someone.

Natasha stepped into the street and made her way to the building. She noiselessly settled into the empty spot next to the girl. 

“Do you have a light?” Natasha asked politely. 

Becca was startled, looking up and her eyes widening at the sight of the beautiful, well-dressed woman before her. Natasha smiled at her as Becca fumbled in her purse for a second and pulled out a lighter, which she then held up to light the cigarette that Natasha had placed between her red lips.

Natasha took a long drag and then exhaled. Becca stared at her.

“I’ve never seen you around here before.” 

“I’ve lived in the city for a few years, but I rarely come to this part of town.” Natasha answered, taking another drag. “You seem a little out of place here yourself.”

Becca blushed and looked away. “I’m waiting for my boyfriend, he’ll be here any minute.” 

Her heart rate picked up when she mentioned that. Natasha could hear the blood pumping through her chest, and she resisted the urge to lick her lips. Her blood smelled appetizing, that much was undeniable. Natasha quickly forced the hunger to the back of her mind. 

Becca’s voice broke through the other woman’s thoughts. “You look like you could be in the pictures.” She was looking at Natasha, her eyes wide and luminous in awe. Natasha recognized that look. She’d caught James giving it to her before, when he had first been turned, and she couldn’t help but smile at the girl.

“Thank you. I was on the stage once, a long time ago . . .” Her throat tightened a little as she said the words. 

“I wanted to be in the pictures when I was little,” Becca’s voice sounded wistful, almost dreamy, as she took another drag of her cigarette. “Ma said only girls with bad reputations are in the pictures.”

“Well, you certainly are pretty enough.” Natasha smiled. “I’m sure your mother couldn’t say no now.”

“Ma died a year ago,” Becca whispered, making Natasha flinch. “It’s just me now. I had a brother too. He died, in the war.” The girl’s lips were pinched together in a tight line.

“I’m so sorry.” Natasha meant it. With her entire heart.

Becca seemed to hesitate for a moment. She dropped the remains of her cigarette and stomped it out with her foot. Then she brought her hands up to a clasp around her neck. She undid it and held it out for Natasha to see.

Natasha had to bite back the gasp that nearly escaped her throat.

James’s dog tags. Natasha vaguely remembered seeing them fastened around his neck that fateful night in the mountains. They must have been ripped away when she sank her teeth into his throat, or when she carried his body to the cave. And now here they were, being held almost reverently by Becca.

“This was all they found of him. Other than-“ Becca looked away quickly and swallowed. “I . . . I should go, it was nice meeting you, miss.” Before Natasha could say another word she had ran off, scurrying quickly in the other direction, back down the street and away from the bar.

Natasha didn’t follow her. She stood where she was, digesting what had just happened. She had done this, partly for James, partly to alleviate her own curiosity, but now she regretted it. What good would it do, telling Becca her brother was still alive? Telling James that his mother was dead? It would only cause more pain, for both of them. How could Becca except that her brother was now . . . what he was?

Natasha turned to face the opposite direction, back towards the apartment. She resolved not to tell James about this. He would be awake soon, and she was getting hungry. She would go back to the apartment, and they would hunt together. She couldn’t risk bringing him any more pain.

——————————————————————————————————————————

A couple blocks away, another vampire was on the prowl. 

He hid himself in the shadows of the alleys, his eyes narrowed into slits as he watched for signs of a person approaching. His only focus was on appeasing the vicious emptiness that was currently gnawing at his stomach. However, he didn’t seem to be having much luck at finding a lone person tonight. Any people who had unassumingly walked past his hiding place were fortunate enough to be in groups, and he couldn’t risk taking one without drawing the attention and panic of the others. A low, rumbling growl of frustration came from his throat, and he sunk further into the shadows, feeling rather sulky and cranky as he tried to ignore the impatient rumbling of his stomach.

But the he heard the distinct footsteps of a lone person approaching the alley. The vampire could hear the pounding of the woman’s blood, like she was upset, and smell it’s delectable scent. She smelled better than anything he had smelled for a long, long time. He began to salivate, running his tongue along the points of his fangs. Like an animal about to pounce, he began moving out of the shadows and towards the mouth of the alley, drool beginning to drip from his fangs. He would pull her in, and smother her before she could scream. It was almost too simple-

But then, another voice called out from further down the alley, breaking the vampire’s concentration. 

“Becca! Becca!” It was a man’s voice, and when it called out the woman stopped in her tracks, turning her back on the alley and making a beeline back the way she had came. 

It took all the self-control the vampire had not to snarl in frustration. For a brief second, he considered chasing the woman down the alley and feeding from her anyway, but he quickly realized that with that man out there, it would risk too much attention. Still, that woman had smelled so delicious, it nearly drove him mad. She must taste even better than she smelled, he was sure of it. 

Allowing himself one more growl of displeasure, the vampire turned and fled back into the shadows, resigning himself to the fact that he would need to find a meal elsewhere tonight. But still, the woman’s scent lingered in his mind.

He would have to find her again.


	4. Becca

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! I'm SO SO SORRY I haven't updated! Things got hectic at work and my motivation has been 0%. I hope everyone is staying safe in these sucky times. I'm pretty bummed that Black Widow got moved to November :((( but at least we'll get to have the theatrical experience instead of it going straight to VOD or Disney +. Everyone be careful out there, and enjoy this new chapter!

Rebecca Barnes was annoyed.

She had woken up, after a long night, with a pounding headache, to the sound of the neighbors having a shouting argument next door. Their voices echoed through the too-thin walls of the crumbling building, making Becca pull the pillow back over her head with a groan. 

“Becca, you awake?” A voice called from the other room. 

Becca groaned again in protest, then reluctantly threw the covers off and sat up. She looked with bleary eyes around the tiny room that served as her bedroom. The apartment was only three rooms, this room, a tiny bathroom with leaking plumbing, and the larger main room, which served as the living area, kitchen, and another bedroom closed off with a makeshift curtain. 

“Becca?” Someone opened the door and peeked in, revealing a woman with a mass of auburn curls and a face dotted with freckles. 

“Yeah, I’m up Alice.” Becca gave her roommate a smile, then groaned as another stab of pain shot through her head. Alice rolled her eyes.

“Drank too much again, right? I’ll get you some water.” 

Becca scrubbed both hands over her face and groaned. “Maybe it wouldn’t be this bad if those people next door would stop screaming,” she opined as another slew of raised voices penetrated the apartment walls. 

“Or if you hadn’t been out all night with your boyfriend,” Alice called back, making Becca flush.

“He won’t be my boyfriend for much longer!” Becca called back, which got her a laugh from the other room. 

She finally got out of bed and went over to the window, squinting her eyes in displeasure at the bright sunlight that invaded the windows. Whoever thought people needed to do things during the daytime in the blinding sunlight and sleep through the nights was horribly stupid. 

The door flew open and Alice floated in, handing Becca a glass of water, which she took gratefully and began gulping down. The two girls had known each other since they were children, when they both got in horrible trouble for making silly faces and giggling during a church service. Alice was loud, mischievous, and fun, qualities that had rubbed off on Becca over the years. Their mothers often complained that the two of them were bad influences on each other, but that hadn’t stopped them from being inseparable. It was Alice who begged Becca to move in with her after her mother died, and let her live with her rent-free while Becca found a job. Becca was never going to let herself forget that kindness. 

After draining the glass, the pounding in Becca’s head eased a little. She hurriedly threw on some clothes and went out into the main room, where Alice had already poured them mugs of coffee. She sat down across from her friend and took a sip, sighing gratefully as she felt the much-needed caffeine enter her system. 

“So how was last night?” Alice took a sip of her own coffee, raising an eyebrow at Becca.

Becca colored. “Same as usual, Jonah walked me to a bar, we drank, smoked, danced-“

“Kissed?” Alice teased.

“Shut up,” Becca threw a crumpled napkin from across the table. 

Alice giggled. “So when is he proposing?”

“Soon.” Becca shrugged. “He says he needs time to get on his feet, save up enough for an apartment. Once he has that, we can go to the courthouse and I can move out and not mooch off you anymore-“

“Oh stop that!” Alice rolled her eyes. “You know you’re always welcome here, and if you only wanna marry that fella because you feel guilty well-“

“No no, I don’t!” Becca pushed away her coffee mug. “I love him Alice, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know, I know . . . “ Alice grinned. “Maybe if his ma was rich, you wouldn’t need to wait to get that money. Of course you had to fall for a fella without a penny to his name-“

“Alice I-.” Becca nearly choked on her words as she remembered. The woman she had met, the woman dressed in fine clothes . . .

“Hey, Becca! Are you ok?” Alice was shooting her a concerned look across the table. 

“Yeah, I’m ok, I just . . .” Becca had nearly forgotten the encounter, but now she couldn’t get it out of her mind. The woman’s blood-red lips, her hair, her icy-pale skin. The way she had made her remember her brother . . .

Becca rested her hand on her chest, feeling the familiar weight of the dog tags that were always around her neck. What compelled her to take them off, to show if to a complete stranger, she could not fathom. Her older brother . . . Bucky . . . was something she rarely talked about, not even with Alice. It was even harder to think about now that her mother was dead. Becca still remembered the day the soldier knocked at her door, the horrible sounds of her mother screaming and sobbing, but most of all she remembered . . .

The soldier stood in front of her, a young girl of thirteen, holding out those dog tags. His face was nearly white, and the words he spoke were forever etched into her young mind.

“I was there ma’m, saw everything. God, it looked like there was a massive fight. Bodies everywhere. Germans. Their throats were so mangled . . . never seen anything like it. Reports of wolves living in those mountains, we never thought they’d be capable of something like this . . . There was no sign of your son’s body. All we found were these tags . . . we had to wash them off, there was so much blood . . .”

They hadn’t even been able to give her brother a proper funeral. 

“Becca!” She snapped out of her trance to see Alice starting at her from across the table, her face a mask of concern.

“It’s nothing,” Becca whispered, wondering briefly if that woman she had seen had been a dream. “You’re going to be late for work, Alice.” 

——————————————————————————————————————————

Becca stayed inside the rest of the day, too exhausted to see Jonah or look for work. Alice had reluctantly left for her job at the diner after some coaxing by Becca. All day she sat in her room, playing with the dog tags that hung around her neck. Now that she had remembered his death, memories of her brother would not stop coming. A carefree young man who always had time for his little sister. She remembered him carrying her on his shoulders, walking her to and from school when Ma couldn’t, buying her a lollipop at Coney Island. And then there where the harder times: him sneaking extra food onto her plate during the depression, and the day he left for the war. Becca had hugged him so tightly, along with Ma. They had stood on the dock with Bucky’s best friend Steve, small and frail his lips pursed with worry and displeasure in not going with him. They stood on that dock and waved until the ship had disappeared over the horizon, and even after that day Becca would wander back towards the dock, looking for any sign of the ship coming back.

Then the soldiers visited, and her world had shattered.

Becca didn’t even realize she was crying until she felt the tears slide down her face. She wiped them away hurredly, and tucked the dog tags back underneath her dress. There was no use crying about it now. Her brother was gone, her ma was gone. There was no use mourning over what had already happened. And soon she would be starting a new life with Jonah. A life with a husband where she could be happy.

Becca looked out the window. It was nearly dark, the stars beginning to show in the sky. A cool breeze whipped inside from the window, and Becca shivered, but not only with the cold.

For some reason, the night felt dangerous to her now.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, I don't actually know how old Becca Barnes is in canon when Bucky left for war. I'm guessing she was around 9-10 when Bucky was shipped out, and so when we see her in this fic she would be about 17-18. And if her age isn't correct well . . . this is an au lol.


End file.
